


Room Twelve

by sonlali



Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode: s04e05 RIP Moira Rose, M/M, Making Out, Sex Motel Series, Sleepy Cuddles, Spooning, goat cheese
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22957609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonlali/pseuds/sonlali
Summary: This is the fourth installment of the Sex Motel series exploring the question: What if the Sherwood, the motel that Johnny and Roland purchase in season 6, happens to be the same motel that David and Patrick used to "connect" before Patrick got his own place?This installment takes place during s04e05 RIP Moira Rose. David and Patrick both have stressful days and their plans at the Sex Motel are derailed.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: The Room(s) Where It Happened [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644181
Comments: 76
Kudos: 225





	Room Twelve

David’s high hopes for today’s plans had been quickly dashed shortly after waking up. And then each time he had dared get his hopes up again, they were further obliterated at the hands of his family.

Alone time is hard to come by with David’s family and Ray seeming to make it their mission in life to repeatedly burst through doors on an unpredictable rotating schedule. But tonight, they will be traveling to Elm Glen to visit the Sherwood Motel, and David and Patrick have been teasing each other with lingering touches and flirty innuendos all week in excitement. It’s a dangerous game, as each attempt at teasing Patrick has only been working David up further. After an entire week of this, David has been growing hard just from brief eye contact with Patrick. He hates it. He loves it. He can barely wait for their evening in Elm Glen.

David had awakened this morning to several filthy texts from Patrick detailing exactly what he plans to do to David this evening. Just as David was preparing his equally risqué response, Alexis had exclaimed from beside him.

“Um, David? The internet says Mom is dead.”

The rest of the morning had followed in a swirl of shrieks, accusations, confusion, and elementary schooling on social media. David had taken on the formidable task of creating the perfect “arising from the great beyond” look for his mom’s Jazzagals rehearsal, made especially difficult when the model of said look had crawled into the very closet he was sifting through. Alexis had tackled explaining the basics of understanding “the Tweeters” to their dad, and David had wondered whose job was worse.

A text from Patrick — fortunately, but also unfortunately, not dirty this time — had alerted David that he was going to be late to his first vendor stop of the day if he didn’t leave the motel immediately. Alexis had latched onto the opportunity to escape and invited herself along to the vendor trips. They had left their mother wailing in the closet in their father’s capable hands.

Alexis has been moping about Ted lately, so David had graciously decided not to argue with Alexis and allow her to come along with him. The first few stops had gone miraculously smoothly, allowing the hesitant tendrils of hope to unfurl. Those eager little tendrils had recoiled in horror as soon as Alexis dropped the bomb that the Heather Warner they had been driving to meet is the very same Heather currently dating Ted.

Adding to the stress of the day, David had fielded several texts from Stevie after a surprise visit from a reporter sent his mom into a tailspin trying to create yet another distinct outfit suitable for returning to the earth amongst the living. Making matters even worse yet, Patrick hadn’t responded to his texts all day, aside from a quick “Sorry, store really busy. Talk later <3.”

By the time David had dropped Alexis off at the motel, he was exhausted from the day’s events. Alexis’ unexpected moment of selflessness and the success of securing exclusivity with Heather had buoyed David’s spirits slightly, but — although David would never admit it — seeing his sister so heartbroken has cracked his heart a bit too. The devastating news of Cuppy the kitten’s tragic passing had been the tipping point, and immediately after entering the store, David had fallen into Patrick’s arms, emotionally and physically drained from the day.

His mind is still buzzing with anxious thoughts now as he leans his head against the window of Patrick’s car. Patrick is telling David about his day manning the store, and David feels on the verge of tears when he learns that Patrick’s day had been similarly exhausting from a chaotic and demanding series of customers. He feels fragile and cracked open at the thought of his mother spending the day imagining her own death, his sister pushing her heartbreak aside to help him, and Patrick on his feet all day being mobbed by tasteless customers. His gut churns with guilt, love, appreciation, and perhaps a bit too much goat cheese. 

“And then Roland came back for a _third_ time! This time he wanted to sample the lavender deep-conditioning shampoo, and he wanted to know if it can only be used on his head or if—”

“Ew, oh my god, stop! I beg you not to finish that sentence, Patrick! You win, you win — your day was worse than mine. Or at the very least, it was very nearly equal to my own trauma.”

Patrick rests a hand on his knee, squeezing gently, and flashing a quick grin before returning his gaze to the road. David allows his eyes to close for the remainder of their car journey to Elm Glen, focusing on the cool feeling of the car window against his forehead, the sound of Patrick’s voice singing along softly with the radio, and the rhythm of his own breathing.

“David, we’re here. Wake up.” Patrick’s voice breaks through the fog in David’s brain and he opens his eyes slowly. Patrick cups David’s face in his hand and David leans into the touch.

“Whasahapn?” David asks Patrick very clearly for clarity on their current whereabouts, but somehow the message gets scrambled in the journey from his brain to his mouth.

“You fell asleep, David, but we’re at the motel now. I already checked in. We’re in room twelve.” Patrick presses a quick kiss to David’s forehead and stands up from where he was crouching beside David’s open car door. 

David raises his arms plaintively.

“I’m not going to carry you, David. No matter how much you pout.” Patrick sounds amused, so David sticks his lower lip out further.

Patrick holds out a hand and helps David out of the car and to his feet, kissing him sweetly in reward.

“I’ll carry your bag, but you’re on your own carrying yourself to the room.”

David wraps his arms around Patrick’s middle, smiling when Patrick brings one arm around his shoulders and absorbs some of David’s weight without complaint. David clings to Patrick as they awkwardly shuffle from the car to the room. He’s certain they look absolutely ridiculous, but at this moment, David truly does not care. He’s sleepy and emotionally-compromised — a dire condition only curable by immediate and thorough cuddling with his boyfriend.

Patrick unlocks the door, and David finally disentangles himself to allow them both to fit through the narrow doorway. David stops dead in his tracks, forcing Patrick to walk into him with a grunt.

“Oh _god_!” David shouts. “Why is everything RED?!”

“Um…” Patrick pauses, clearly trying to find a way to put a positive spin on the decor. 

They’ve never visited this room before, and David is positively aghast. The walls, pillows, sheets, even the _carpet_ , are all red. The style inspiration could only have been the elevator scene from _The Shining_. Patrick shoves lightly at David’s lower back to push him further into the room and shut the door. It takes three attempts and Patrick kicking at the door frame to finally force the door completely closed.

“How many people were murdered in here before they decided to just make everything red to cover all the blood?” David raises his eyebrows meaningfully.

“David.” It’s just his name, but David can hear the warning in Patrick’s tone. He wanders to the bathroom and peeks inside, gasping loudly.

“Oh my god! Patrick, the bathtub is red!” There’s an old porcelain tub and matching sink in the small motel bathroom, both blood-red.

Patrick doesn’t respond, so David goes back out into the room to find him lying on the bed, legs dangling over the edge and feet still on the floor.

“Patrick! We haven’t done the bedbugs check yet! It’s not safe.” David nudges him off the bed and tugs at the sheets, prodding anxiously at the mattress. When he deems the mattress bug-free, David inspects the sheets. “Somehow I always forget just how low the thread count of these sheets is.”

Patrick sighs heavily and David turns around to find Patrick rubbing at his temples, eyes scrunched closed and mouth turned down in a frown. David is reminded of just how tiring Patrick’s day has been too. 

“David, do you just want to go back home?” Patrick says wearily, and David’s stomach churns with guilt.

“No, no, no! Patrick, no. I didn’t mean… I shouldn’t have… I’m s — I’m… um, Patrick? Let’s stay. Please?” David forces himself to stop rambling and steps closer to Patrick, resting his hands atop Patrick’s shoulders and squeezing gently.

“Okay, David.” Patrick smiles wanly and sits on the foot of the bed to remove his shoes.

“Mkay, so, I brought some samples from the vendors today, so I’ll put us together a little spread.” David shimmies hopefully and picks up his bag to pull out his treats from the day. He arranges the food as artfully as possible considering the Tupperware dishes he’s using as a charcuterie board and the general aesthetic of the room are really working against him.

David settles on the bed next to Patrick and holds out the Tupperware. “Heather’s goat cheese really is quite good. And the peanut butter squares from Lilian and Carrie — you know, the farm wi-… I mean, the Mennonite sisters? Their peanut butter squares are delicious. Oh, and Riley is experimenting with a new scent for their hand cream, and… um, we can’t eat that, but I thought you would still… um, be interested?”

David trails off, feeling embarrassed by his babbling and guilty for upsetting Patrick, who still isn’t saying anything. Patrick picks idly at a peanut butter square. David can’t stand the silence. 

“Hmm, and also! Um… also, Nita has a new flavor of breath mints for us to try, and I think—”

“David,” Patrick interrupts. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t be upset if you just wanted to go home. It’s been a long day. We’re both tired…”

“Nononono.” David shakes his head urgently. “No, Patrick. This time is for us to be together, and I want that. Besides, this room really isn’t any worse than the other rooms at this motel, so.”

Some of the tension eases from Patrick’s shoulders, so David takes the opportunity to feed him a piece of cheese. Patrick smiles and nips lightly at David’s fingers when he takes the snack. Patrick lets out a low approving hum at the taste, and the energy in the room grows heavier. They take turns feeding each other bites of cheese — Patrick licking filthily at David’s fingers and David moaning loudly around each bite. 

David eats the last bite of cheese while perched atop Patrick’s lap, and Patrick immediately chases the taste from his mouth. David is breathless from the hungry way Patrick is kissing him — all teeth and tongue, sharp bites followed by soothing licks. David shoves Patrick back onto the pillows, covering Patrick’s body with his own and reveling in the gorgeous moan he is rewarded with. Patrick’s shirt ends up draped over an ugly red — of _course_ it’s fucking red — lampshade. David sits up to remove his sweater, and Patrick… 

Patrick yawns.

“Um.” David folds his arms across his chest. “I’m trying really hard not to see that as an insult, but…”

“Shit, David, I’m sorry. It’s just been a—” Patrick interrupts himself with another jaw-popping yawn. “—a really long day. Can we maybe lie down for a bit before we… um, you know?”

David twists his lips to the side in an attempt to stifle his grin. He wonders briefly if he will ever stop being charmed by the sweet pink blush dusting Patrick’s cheeks and the tips of his ears whenever he talks about sex. He thinks probably not. 

“Mmhmm.” David nods. “Yes, let’s do that.”

David climbs off of Patrick’s lap and they both strip down to just undershirts and briefs. It’s not what David had envisioned for this evening. He pictured a frenzied rush to strip each other, heated kisses pressed to each newly-revealed inch of skin. Instead, they each remove their own clothing — David folding Patrick’s jeans carefully, Patrick retrieving his button up from the lampshade and smoothing out the creases. Patrick pulls back the covers, and they crawl under to lie side by side. It’s not hot or sexy, but instead sweet and domestic. David finds himself enjoying it more than he ever would have expected.

“David, I’m sorry this evening isn’t going quite how we planned,” Patrick says softly. He’s staring up at the ceiling, a tiny furrow between his brows that David wants to kiss away. “We’ll need to leave in about an hour if we want to get back to Schitt’s Creek before it gets too late, so we won’t have much time to…" Patrick bites at his lower lip nervously and David’s heart clenches. He leans over to kiss Patrick on the cheek.

“I’m happy with this, Patrick. We both had really hard days, and I can’t think of a better way to relax than with you. Just like this.” It’s far more honest than David had intended, and all at once he feels vulnerable and exposed. He shuts his eyes against the panic thrumming through his veins, fighting every instinct to take it all back, make a sarcastic comment, flee.

He can feel Patrick’s eyes on him — can feel the fond expression stripping back all his defenses and looking right into his heart. It’s too much. He has to break the tension of this moment, bring some levity to the intense way he can feel Patrick looking at him right now.

“Besides, I’m feeling a little puffy from all the goat cheese, so.” David cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Patrick huffs a quiet laugh, his breath fanning across David’s cheek. Well, _that_ certainly detracted from his accidental sincerity. David opens his eyes and turns his head to find he’s practically nose to nose with Patrick.

“Hi,” David breathes.

“Hey,” Patrick replies. “I’m happy to be here with you, too. Let’s just cuddle for a while, okay?”

“Mkay, you can spoon me.” David grins.

“Hey now, wait a second! Maybe I would like to be the little spoon.” Patrick’s mouth is set in a stern line, but his eyes are twinkling mischievously. 

“But I’m always the little spoon.” David pouts.

“Exactly! Maybe I want to be little spoon for once. Maybe I don’t want to be subjected to your cheese farts.”

David’s jaw drops, his eyebrows flying up his forehead. He tries to speak but can only manage to stammer in outrage and shock. Patrick laughs, his entire body shaking with it, and as much as David wants to be offended, it’s nearly impossible to be angry when Patrick laughs like this. 

“So I should spoon up against _your_ cheese farts then?” David waves a hand at Patrick, who continues to laugh, the bastard. 

“Rock, paper, scissors for little spoon?” Patrick offers.

“We aren’t twelve, Patrick.” David rolls his eyes. 

“Okay, enjoy my cheese farts, David.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re a menace and a troll, and I can’t remember why exactly I’m dating you.”

“My undeniable wit and charm. Okay, let’s go!” Patrick sits up and David follows suit. They hold out their fists, and Patrick grins while David tries to look annoyed. “Rock, paper, scissors!”

Patrick holds out paper and lets out a triumphant _whoop_ , covering David's fist with his open palm. 

“Excuse me, what just happened here?” David shouts. “I wasn’t ready! You never said ‘shoot’!”

“What?” Patrick’s laughing again. “Why would I say ‘shoot’?”

“That’s how you play the game!” David throws his hands up in the air with frustration. “It’s ‘rock, paper, scissors, shoot’ and you play on ‘shoot’! What sort of chaotic gameplay have you been following before I came into your life? Honestly!”

“You are _so_ right, David. My life was chaotic shambles before you.” His voice drips with sarcasm, but David still preens under the praise. 

“Mm, well, it is very fortunate that you met me.”

“Best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Patrick replies, stopping David’s heart in his chest. 

David doesn’t understand how Patrick can say things like that so easily, so casually, as if he hasn’t just caused alarm bells and cheers to sound in David’s mind simultaneously. David is still focused on attempting to school his facial expressions — and probably failing, who is he kidding? — when Patrick is saying ‘shoot.’ 

David panics and throws scissors, groaning when he notices that Patrick has also selected scissors. Patrick starts another round and… they both choose scissors. 

“Oh my GOD.” David flops dramatically onto his back. Patrick just laughs again, the sound filling David’s chest with something warm and sticky, like clouds of cotton candy coating his insides. He’s full of goat cheese and peanut butter squares, but now there’s also sweet tangled cobwebs of sugar wrapping around his heart and _squeezing_. 

“C’mon, David. One more round.” 

David grumbles but sits up, glaring with as much scorn as he can muster. He thinks it’s probably not a lot. Patrick smirks at him, which confirms to David that his face can’t help but soften when confronted by Patrick’s warm brown eyes and impish grin. 

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” They both choose rock.

“You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me! No. No, no, no. I do not accept this. I’m going to see if there’s any more cheese.” David tries to get out of bed, but Patrick tugs him back down, capturing his mouth in a smiling kiss. 

It’s an uncoordinated clash of teeth, can barely even be considered a kiss, but it’s perfect. Patrick brings a hand up to twist in David’s hair, tugging lightly, and suddenly the kiss turns heated. David moans and scoots closer to Patrick, scratching at the soft skin of Patrick’s lower back and humming with satisfaction at the little whimper the action earns. 

Patrick shoves David onto his back and leans over him, short hair mussed and lips red and swollen. David grabs at Patrick, pawing at his chest, hips, ass — any body part he can reach until Patrick lowers his weight onto David. They both groan at the sensation. David nips at Patrick’s jaw and Patrick rolls his hips down slowly. 

“David,” Patrick sighs. 

David’s stomach makes a loud burbling noise. 

David groans and covers his face with his hands, but Patrick just laughs cheerfully and rolls to the side. He taps David’s hip playfully.

“Roll over. You can be the little spoon.”

They curl up, Patrick’s chest pressed snug against David’s back, David holding Patrick’s forearm securely across his middle. Patrick leaves kisses along the back of David’s neck, across his shoulders, just under his ear. 

“Sorry, uh…” David clears his throat. “Sorry for ruining the mood.”

“You didn’t. This is perfect. I’m probably too tired to do much more anyway. Let’s just nap for a little while. Hand me my phone?” Patrick speaks with such open sincerity that David has no doubt he’s telling the truth. David reaches over to the bedside table and retrieves Patrick’s phone. Patrick sets an alarm so they don’t sleep too long and kisses David’s neck again. 

Patrick slips his hand up the hem of David’s t-shirt to rub soothing circles over David’s rumbling tummy. The tension from the day begins to drain from David’s body. Patrick’s breathing becomes slow and even, and David knows he’ll be asleep shortly. David’s eyelids feel heavy, so he allows his eyes to droop closed. 

David had high hopes for today, but nothing went according to plan. He didn’t plan for his mother’s crisis, his sister’s broken heart, his boyfriend’s exhaustion. But his mother is alive and well, his sister helped him secure an important exclusivity deal, his boyfriend is holding him close. It’s not what he planned. It’s not what he hoped for. It’s so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr [@landofsonlali](https://landofsonlali.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
